


Soft Dark Nothing

by ttfan111robstar1



Category: The Haunting of Hill House (TV 2018)
Genre: AU, Character Death, F/M, Hallucinations, Love, father-daughter bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23180617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttfan111robstar1/pseuds/ttfan111robstar1
Summary: She was the soft dark nothing that comforted him in the night, and he longed more than anything to come home to her.A Slightly alternated version of events of the episodes, told from Hugh's perspective.
Relationships: Hugh Crain/Olivia Crain
Kudos: 15





	Soft Dark Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Soft Dark Nothing" by Lily Kershaw.

He didn’t talk about what really happened that last night. What _really_ happened had been between him and the Dudley’s. The police, the lawyers, the media, his therapist and even his own children, did not have knowledge of what really happened that last night in the house. He’d tried talking about it once with his therapist, but it was too much to take. The sharp and judgmental eyes of those who knew of his background would always find him and seek him out. No matter who the stares or glares were coming from, they would forget that he too was human. A man, widowed by the love of his life when the house they’d wanted to flip had overwhelmed her. Nobody would ever know the true weight of his grief because they would never know what really happened that night. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it. On the contrary. He did. But he feared his words would only devastate him more, so he kept his mouth shut.

It took Hugh Crain time to get used to going to bed alone. At first, actually, he didn’t have to worry about it. His children would crawl into bed with him whenever they could. There were a few weeks in between the time of that final night in the house and the point where he’d sent the children to live with Janet. During that time, Luke and Nell would crawl into bed with him and cry for their mother. He’d hold them, arms around them tightly so they couldn’t break apart as their mother had, but it was hard, keeping them together. Nell screamed about the Bent Neck Lady coming for her every night in her dreams, and Luke had come undone after seeing Abigail in the window, saying that they needed to go back for her. But he knew they would never go back there. His children would never go back into that house, so long as he could manage it.

But just because he did not go back there, did not mean that she did not come to him. He’d wake and see her at the foot of his bed, or hear her voice in his ear singing a tune the way she used to when she was caught up in her work. His therapist said she was a manifestation of his grief, a coping skill to deal with the gravity of losing her. He might have believed that, were it not for what he knew lurked in Hill House. He knew it was her. The real one. The one whose mind had not been poisoned by the house. She was the soft dark nothing that came into his dreams and wrapped herself around him like a snake. Her voice encouraged him in the night, telling him what he was doing wrong or right with the kids. She gave advice to him about what to do when Theo gave him attitude or when Shirley began distancing herself from him. But at the end of every night, when the sunlight hit his eyelids, she would go, and he would lose her all over again.

Slowly, over the years, it got to the point where he could see and hear her during the day as well as the night. She did not confine herself to his dreams any longer. Instead, she was there, walking through the world with him. Beautiful, ageless, and timeless. The only flaw was that though he could see and hear her, he could not touch her. Every time she spoke to him, it made his arms hurt because they missed the feel of her waist. They never forgot that feeling, always held the knowledge that a piece of himself was missing.

When Clara Dudley had called him about the unfamiliar car by the house he’d gotten a pit in his stomach that no amount of deep breathing could get rid of. When she’d managed to get out that Nellie was there, he’d felt himself being dragged back into that familiar abyss of grief. He’d called Steve, gave him the news, as if he were on autopilot. He’d boarded that plane in Orlando, and Liv hadn’t shown up to comfort him. He supposed she was with their daughter, helping her adjust to life on the other side. It was a comforting thought, but not comforting enough to make this right.

When he’d gotten to the hotel, he’d set his bags down, and he’d finally seen her again, as he was dressing to go see his family. He’d asked her which tie looked the best on him, and she’d helped him pick one out. It was an uneasy ride to Shirley’s home. He kept trying to think of the right things to say to his children, but he’d never been good at that. Liv had always been the one good with words. He’d been good with his hands. Even when she told him what to say, everything always sounded wrong coming from his mouth. He could never get the delivery quite right. Seeing all of them there in one place, all grown adults, was like stepping into another world. It was like he hadn’t ever really seen any of them until now. When he looked at them, he still saw the children he’d taken away from the house that night. No longer.

He’d made his best efforts to interact with them, the way he thought a father should. Even with Liv helping him, there were arguments, bursts of heated words. Twenty six years of a fractured family were pulsating underneath the skin and had swollen fit to burst. He regretted some of the words he’d said, as he knew his children had probably regretted their own words to some extent. Mostly, though, he felt sorrowful for Nell. Little Nellie, who had to be watching this from wherever she was.

It seemed his thoughts were right when her casket tipped over. He’d hefted the casket up with the help of his sons, and pressed a kiss to his daughter’s head in the only apology he could think of. His children were upset, and it was understandable. Especially about the buttons on Nell’s eyes. None of them knew who had done it, but he had. He knew that was Liv. He knew his wife always knew about his youngest daughter’s fondness for buttons. It only made sense that she would put them there, saying goodbye in her own way. The only way that would not scare the rest of their children.

When he’d gone with Theo to follow the footprints, however, he’d seen the primal version of his bloodied wife come out from under Shirley’s desk. The only thing he could think to do was hold onto his little girl until she went away. He knew that wasn’t her. It was merely a ghost of who the house had wanted her to be.

He’d gone to bed for the night not long after that, after getting back to the hotel. But that night, his soft dark nothing did not come. Instead, a nightmare of the last night in the house took hold. He saw himself pushing the tea set away, shoving his wife against the wall, and packing the children into the car. When he’d come back, opened the door to the house, the primal version of his wife grabbed at his ankle, begging him to stay, and he’d fallen backward as ghosts wrapped themselves around him and tendrils of shadows thrust him into the darkness with her.

He’d awoken the next morning to dress for his daughter’s funeral. Liv- the real Liv- had come and comforted him. It had just been a dream. That’s all it had been. He’d gone to Shirley’s home, and he’d met with Theo, who had surprisingly let her guard down and let him in for once. It was a comforting feeling. It gave him a spark of hope that things would be alright eventually.

The morning of the funeral dawned, and he went to Shirley’s. Liv stayed at his side the whole time. She told him how to talk to Theo. It went… far better than either of them had anticipated. So, when Theo emerged from the bathroom, dressed for the funeral, he tried talking to her, about something that seemed gravely important.  
  
“How was your coffee?” She asked.  
  
“It was good.” He said. “Theo?”  
  
She looked at him. “Yeah?”  
  
“Your mom… She was always good at talking. I never was. She always used to joke that I spoke with my hands better than I did my mouth. But… I wanted to tell you something.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“When you and Shirl and Steve were little, we used to have a system, your mom and I. I would take over as much as I could at night, unless it was time to feed one of you kids. That, she insisted on doing herself. Anyway, you were maybe… three weeks old, I think. You were the first of your brothers and sisters to get colic and we’d never dealt with that before. You cried constantly. Didn’t matter if we held you or not. You just… Cried. I was in bed, and it was maybe 1:30 in the morning when I first heard you start to cry. I knew it wasn’t time to feed you yet. I jumped out of bed as quick as I could and went to your bassinet. You weren’t awake yet, so I thought maybe I could get you back to sleep. I picked you up in my arms, and just like that, you stopped. It was the first time that I had helped you stop crying and um… It was a defining moment in my life. I had one with each of you kids when you were first born, but that was yours. I held you, and stared at you, and I couldn’t believe that all it took to calm you down was my holding you. From that point on, when you were a baby, you didn’t sleep unless I held you. Steve, he uh, used to say that “Daddy’s Magic Hands” were the only thing that could get you to sleep. I made you a promise that night. I swore to you, and your brother and sister that my arms would always be there to protect you. All this time, that’s what I’ve tried to do, whether I failed or succeeded, that was all I was trying to do. I know I failed in a lot of ways, but I never lost sight of that over all these years. I haven’t gotten to hold you really since that time,since you don’t like being touched, but I want you to know… My arms will always be there for you if you need them.”

Theo had stared at him, processing what he’d said. Then, a faint smile.  
  
“Thanks, Dad.”

He smiled back at her.

From then on, he was sucked into the whirlwind day of his daughter’s funeral. Liv was there with him the entire time. She coached him through the car ride with Shirley, and later on when he spoke with Luke. And when he saw Luke by Shirley’s purse, and the commotion that came afterward, he knew he had to find his son. He’d gone with Steve in the car, and when he got to the gas station, and realized that Luke had gotten _five gas cans full of gas_ , there was no doubt in his mind where his son was going. He wasn’t going to lose another child. Not like this.

He raced toward the house, and even as he told Steve everything about the house, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that he was coming home to Liv. It replayed in his mind over and over like a broken record, refusing to stop. He had to force himself to focus so he wouldn’t get distracted from the goal of finding Luke.   
  
When he entered the house, the smell of the fumes was overwhelming. It took him half a second to clear his head because the smell was so powerful. He went with Steve through the house, only stopping him once. He held his arm out and made his son look at him as The Tall Man stared at Steve.

_Daddy’s magic hands._

He couldn’t help wondering if Steve remembered that, or if it was just him. Nonetheless, it worked. The Tall Man moved on, and the spiral staircase no longer held Abigail Dudley’s ghost. With that, he began the frantic climb up the stairs, heading straight to the culprit of all of this- the red room. Everything he tried couldn’t seem to get it open. But when Steve came up, it opened to show Luke with a needle in his arm before it shut completely. Then, a growing spot of black mold grew branches, began to expand, growing bigger and bigger until it sank it’s tendrils into him and covered him from head to toe before he blacked out.

When he woke up, the first thing he did was pop one of his heart medications. However, when he finished, he saw a pair of feet in front of him before the rotting face of Poppy Hill was right up against him, talking about the Grattan family and the heinous crimes of one man.   
  
Then, the voice of an angel came through to him.  
  
“Stay away.” It commanded.

“He's just too cute, Liv.”

“Away.” It said again.  
  
Poppy took her sweet time strolling away. “Forgive a girl for being lonely. Nothing sadder than a cold bed. But all those wedding beds go cold eventually. Don’t they, loves?”

And then, she was there. Coming to see him.

“Journeys end in lovers' meeting. I have spent an all but sleepless night. I have told lies

and made a fool of myself. And the very air tastes like wine. Everyone is home. You've changed so much.” She said, and noticed the pills.  
  
“For my heart.” He said.

“How long has it been since you were here?” She asked.

“Longer than I intended. It was too hard to see you here, this way. But I still…” He tapped at his heart. “Had you with me."  
  
It was true. He’d carried her with him the past twenty six years. No woman had ever captured his heart again. Even after all this time, she was the only one for him. Even though he was overjoyed to see her, he had to focus on getting the kids out of that room.  
  
Her sob caught his attention. “I'll be alone again!”

He went to her. “If it wasn’t for the kids in that room, I would've laid down with you. I would have followed you… right into the darkness. But those kids, Liv… But those kids in that room… If you open that door right now… I will make a promise to you that I will keep forever. Open the door. Please. Let me fix this.”

“Journeys end…”

“…in lovers’ meeting.” He finished. “You had that engraved on my watch, do you remember?”  
  
“But I was wrong.” She said. “That’s the secret, isn’t it? Journeys don’t end. Not if you love someone. They don’t end at all.”  
  
He put his lips to her ear. “Open the door, Liv. Open it, and I will never leave you again. I promise. I’ll be with you forever. I just want those kids out of that room. Please, Liv. Only you can save them now. I need you to do this. _Please_.”

She pulled away, stroked his cheek, and he was struck by the fact that he could finally feel her touch again. It had been so long…   
  
He snapped himself out of it. He had to focus. He pulled out the bottle of medication, jangled the pills in front of her. “Just one open door, and I’m yours forever.”  
  
Finally- _finally_ \- she nodded, and opened it, as he downed the heart medication all at once and curled up by the top of the spiral staircase. Death came quickly, but it was only one instant. Just one. A moment of blackness, before he was moving again. He looked down and saw his body on the ground. It was like looking at an old friend. He smiled at it, grateful for it’s use, before he stood next to his wife. His children- _their_ children, walked out from the room.

“Dad?” The question came from Steve.

His eyes looked over the four children who stood before him. Everything he had ever done was to protect those children. Now, he had made the ultimate sacrifice to keep the house from taking their entire family.

“I want you to know… You… and your sisters… and your brother… were the best part of my… my…” He took a deep breath. “Never been prouder of anything. Anything, ever.” He looked over them all. “Take care of each other.”

“Dad?” Steve’s voice edged a bit on panic.

All at once, their father looked the way he had when they had lived in the house. “Take care of each other. And be kind to each other. If nothing else… Be kind.” He said. He looked at each of them. “I was so lucky… to be your Dad."  
  
Olivia stepped forward and put her hand on her husband’s arm. He kissed her gently, with butterfly softness. Her lips still tasted the way they did back then. He felt her now more than he ever had, as the earth seemed to quiet and still for them. And then… Nellie was there, in front of her siblings, and was sandwiched in a hug by both her parents.

When Nellie let go, Hugh went to his living children, wanting to say something special to each of them. He went to Luke first, who was clearly high on the heroin, but not dead or overdosed. Thank God.  
  
“Luke. You’ve gotten sober once before and I know you can do it again. You will beat this. I know you can.” He said.

Luke nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”  
  
He moved next to Shirley. “Take good care of my grandkids, Shirley. And my body. Just, keep being there for your brothers and sister. You all need each other, even when you think you don’t.”   
  
Shirley gave him a hug. “Thanks, Dad."  
  
Steve was next. “Whatever is going on in your life, you can fix it. You can turn your entire life around if you want. It’s never too late.”  
  
Steve gave him a hug. “Thanks, Dad. I’ll keep that in mind.”  
  
Finally, it was Theo’s turn.

“I’ll always be here to protect you. I meant it. But you have to learn to let your guard down and let others in once in a while. You have so much to give, Theo. Don’t lock it all away. You’re needed.” He said softly.

Theo smiled, nodded. “Thanks, Daddy.” She said softly.

Hugh smiled. “I love you all. Take care of each other.”  
  
Olivia stepped forward and held his hand. He smiled at her. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’ve got a dance to enjoy with your mother.” He said, taking his wife’s hand.

Olivia grinned and waved a hand, and a record player began to play. The music of “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes” by The Platters began to play, and Hugh led her down the stairs to dance. The four of them watched as their parents spun around the floor. None of them could bring themselves to feel saddened for their father. He could finally be with his wife, like he’d wanted for all these years.  
  
As Hugh held his wife in his arms at last, he couldn’t help but feel complete.  
  
Finally, he was home.


End file.
